Mixing business with pleasure

We're back on the road to Vegas this weekend, but let me tell you why...

My blog-pal, Amy Arnaz, wife of my pastelito-loving friend, Desi Arnaz Jr. invited us to come and enjoy a special tribute concert this coming weekend at their beautifully renovated Historic Boulder Theatre.

Yes, of course we're going. For three reasons:

1) The Arnaz's were gracious enough to invite us. (!)

2) Eric had business in nearby Las Vegas this same weekend, (is that serendipidous, or what?) so we'd be in town anyway.

2) The tribute concert is called Tormé Sings Tormé.  It will be performed by Steve March Tormé (a childhood friend of Desi's) doing a classy tribute to the life and music of his dad, Mel Tormé

Yes, Mel Tormé, silver-throated jazz legend (also featured in the Seinfeld episode, The Jimmy, but that's not important right now). 

Torme006
 
So, to recap, my weekend will involve a fabulous getaway with my husband in Vegas for a few nights, then a few days in Boulder City during which I get to spend time with Desi (*sigh*) and the lovely Amy, and enjoy Steve's big band tribute to his amazing dad.

Major added bonus: Just found out that Desi will be playing drums at the show. (Thank you, God!)

Could I be any more excited?

My Man, Ron

My husband, Eric and I, had a wonderful opportunity recently to visit a little ranch just north of the city of Santa Barbara, California.

To get there, we had to drive up a winding, bumpy, one-lane road. I kept thinking that surely our guide had made some mistake. We were way too high and in a place that seemed wild and uninhabitable. Still the road continued to climb.

The road is unpaved most of the way and it’s very slow going. It took us about thirty minutes to drive up to what seemed to us like the top of the world, traveling only at about twenty miles an hour for the entire trip.

Suddenly, we reached a high point where the vast blue ocean was visible and breathtaking. There didn’t appear to be anything up here. In awe, we thought of how amazing it must have been for the earliest settlers who first witnessed this tranquil scene. From this vantage point in the Santa Ynez Mountains, we could finally understand why this ocean was named “pacific.”

Santa Ynez mts

At the top of this mountain, at the end of this seemingly road-to-nowhere was our destination: Rancho del Cielo. Also known as The Reagan Ranch.

Rancho del cielo

As we drove up the gravel road and our friend and guide, Bryant, unlocked the gate that led to a tiny, one-story, adobe and stucco house, I wondered aloud where exactly the actual Reagan Ranch was.

Ranch

We parked and walked up to the little patio in front of the tiny house and it was when I saw the sign on the patio overhang that I had my second of many a-ha moments for the day.

Penn ave

My thoughts then turned to former Soviet leader, Mikhail Gorbachev. I wondered if he was as confused as I initially was. This place? This is where the powerful capitalist president chose to make his home? That realization must have blown his mind.

Front door

The furniture inside was shockingly plain. Brown wicker with woven American Indian blankets and memorabilia here and there. A cowboy hat here, a peace pipe there. There’s a pot bellied stove in the front room, which we were told provided the only heat to this front room. (No, I wasn’t allowed to take pictures inside. *Sigh*)

Ronald Reagan’s books are still on the shelves. The kitchen still has the original Harvest Gold appliances from the 70’s and it’s small. In fact, there’s barely room for one person to turn around in it. (I promise I will never complain about the size of my kitchen again.)

Above the fireplace in the unpretentious living room is the Presidential Seal. One of the few clues that the inhabitant of this house was once one of the most powerful and influential people on the planet.

The largest room in this modest house is the bedroom where two twin beds are pushed against each other, with the headboards held together by twist-ties. There’s a homemade quilt monogrammed with an “R.” There are hand-stitched pillows on the bed.

The closet holds a few old western-type work shirts, cowboy hats and boots. (Yes, I got to go into Ronald Reagan’s closet. I know. Shut up. And yes, I was tempted, just for a moment, to snap photos of his Stetson hats and collection of cowboy and English riding boots, but that’s not important right now.) On the other side of the small walk-in closet hang a few of Nancy’s ranch clothes and hats.

When I was young and Ronald Reagan was California’s governor, I used to think that he was a little corny. But as I stood in what was once his home, I thought how simple and unpretentious was the man who lived here. And how very, very genuine. Ronald Reagan believed what he said and lived what he believed.

He believed in American exceptionalism. He believed in the American dream. It was here, at Rancho del Cielo, where President Reagan signed the Economic Recovery Tax Act of 1981. He believed that a costly government was also often an incompetent one.

He believed in the value of hard work and built the fences on the ranch with his own hands from discarded telephone poles. His beloved ranch perfectly illustrates the high value he placed on simplicity and freedom.

He believed and often repeated that the most important words of the U.S. Constitution are the ones that begin it: “We, the people…”

In the time since our visit to the Reagan Ranch, my admiration for President Reagan has grown. I am now, more than ever, unapologetically a proud Reagan Conservative.

Today marks the 20th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall. The actions and words of Ronald Reagan, our 40th president were in large part responsible for the collapse of the Soviet Union and the salvation of millions of lives which would otherwise be lost to communism. Ronald Reagan spent his entire life fighting against and prevailing over the evil that is communism.

When I read the news, it seems that evil is once again growing, unchallenged. I'm also encouraged, because I see signs that conservatism is also on the ascendancy once again.

All we need now is another Ronald Reagan.

Portion of Berlin Wall

"I know in my heart that man is good.
That what is right will always eventually triumph.
And there's purpose and worth to each and every life." ~ Ronald Reagan

A very special thank-you to our guide and friend, Bryant Conger for the amazing tour. Thanks also to Young America’s Foundation for all you have done to preserve the Reagan legacy and for all you continue to do for the cause of conservatism.

(cross-posted at Babalú blog)

So Many Places, So Little Time

We had a reunion tonight with the great group of homeschooling families that traveled along with us to Washington DC and New York back in May.

We were to bring along a dish for a potluck and our photos and scrapbooks from our trip.

Well, we are taking our sweet time getting that scrapbook done. (Darn those perfectionist genes!)

But we (the kids and I) pulled together a few photos and created a thank you to go into a scrapbook for our amazingly-knowledgeable-and-delightful-tour-operator-and-now-friend, Greg St. Jacques from P.A.C.E. Travel, who absolutely made the trip amazing for us. 

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Here are the pages...

Left-side-web

Right-side-web

Lucy and Jonathan collaborated with me on the journaling. Here's what we wrote:

We didn't know...

From the bottom of our hearts: Thank you, Greg.

***********************************************************

And just because I like it and this is my blog and I can add whatever I want (but that's not important right now) here's a gratuitous photo of me & Eric from the Top of the Rock in all our dorky-An-Affair-To-Remember-glory. =D

Top of the rock

We The People

On April 17, 1975 I became a proud naturalized American citizen. I was almost 20 years old.

Naturalization021

[UPDATED NOTE 9/18/09: Imagine my Naturalization Certificate right here with a cute photo of me with short, feathered 70's hair in the upper left-hand corner. I was advised by my Favorite and Most Awesome Immigration Attorney (and you know who you are, Abe) that I shouldn't have posted this so publicly. I stand corrected. The rest of the post still remains.]

Before I got to the moment in the U.S. courtroom where I pledged my allegiance and was sworn in as a Citizen of the United States of America, I had to learn a few things.

I had to learn about American history.

I had to learn the names of my representatives in my state and in our country.

I had to learn how Congress worked and what the chain of command was in Washington.

I had to learn about the Constitution.  And I fell in love with it.

Having come from what was once a free country that was taken over by communists, I felt a much deeper appreciation for the gift of liberty.

I wondered then and I still wonder now if the birthright of citizenship here in America is taken for granted by those who did nothing more than make their entrance into this world in a delivery room on U.S. soil. But then again, that's the beauty of this amazing country.

When we visited the National Archives in DC back in May, we stood before the Constitution and let the awe of that historic document wash over us.

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It was especially emotional for me to read the first three words: "We, the people..."

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I stood there and thought how awesome it was that this document included ME, a Cuban refugee, in that WE. And I wept.

Many Americans don't know American history. Or the names of their representatives. Or how Congress works. Or what the chain of command is in Washington.

Can you pass the Naturalization Test that allows you to become an American citizen?  (click on the link and tell me how you did. I got 90%. =D)

Today marks the 222nd anniversary of the signing of that historical document. Thirty-nine brave men who, by signing their names to this document changed the course of history.

Some have never read the Constitution or even learned the Preamble.

Let me help you with that right now....  ;-)

Happy Constitution Day.

(H/T Babalú)

Taking Time Off

Okay, so now everyone else is back in school, but it's not quite the end of summer. (If you want to get technical about this, the season goes until September 21st, which is not until next week, but that's not important right now.)

We started school a few weeks ago, but because we homeschool, our schedule is pretty flexible. So we usually choose to take some time off when we are not fighting crowds at the beach.

That's Eric catching a few waves before sunset.

Eric surfing  

Jonathan is thrilled that he only has to keep up with math and reading this week.

Jon 

Lucy has big plans for this week. She hopes to discover who has the very best fresh tomato, garlic, and onion pizza in this county.

Lucy

Eric is already visibly relaxed after one whole day of surfing.

Eric

Me? I'm trying to decide whether I really, really, really want to leave the comfort of my comfiest of lounge chairs by the perfectly heated pool to walk down the 100 steps (which would eventually have to be walked back up) to get to the beach.

I'm thinking no. The kids are having a great time bonding with dad (and my camera).

Besides, I can see them just fine from up here.  =D

Pool or ocean kids copy  

Happy Darby-Vacation-Week!

I see Cuban people, mama-baby.

I told you there was Elvis.

And I told you about the whole Vegas-Wedding-Renewal-at-The-Graceland-Chapel thing.

I finally got the photo of my big, fat, Cuban family with Elvis. (Or The Elvis Tribute Specialist Du Jour.)

Group w elvis007 

And then, suddenly and without much warning... he left the building. (I guess that's just his "way.")

"Man, I really like Vegas."  ~ Elvis Presley

How Many Cuban Girls Does it Take to Get ONE Photo?

So, remember when Amy and I were in Las Vegas a few weeks ago? While we were there I had gotten it into my head that I wanted to take a picture of us in the elevator.

But let me explain....

The elevators at Bally's (where we were staying) were mirrored. And you know how much I love Now-and-Then type photos.

Somewhere, I remembered, there was a photo of Amy and me that I had taken in a mirror. I'm pretty sure it was taken in Las Vegas. I wanted to recreate that shot.

I remember that I had the camera and I was pointing it at us in the mirror. It was quite good. And I remember liking it a lot. (Where is that photo? I know I've seen it recently...)

On our way out for the evening I tried to take the shot, but I wasn't sure it was coming out just right.

"Let's do it when we get back."

So, it's after midnight (which means nothing to most people in Vegas) and we're both exhausted and it's super-stinking-but-it's-a-dry-heat hot. Still I insist we have to do this photo shoot in the elevator. (Where is that original photo? I know I've seen it somewhere just recently....)

We get into the elevator and at the last minute A Strange Person gets in. (Of course, this is not at all strange in Las Vegas, land of Strange People, but that's not important right now.)

Amy and I both sort of panic when he asks, "Going up, or down?" (Argh! He's speaking to us! What do we do?? What do we say??)

At the same exact time: I say, "Down." She says, "Up."

We exchange a quick glance and AGAIN at the exact time time: I say, "Up." She says, "Down."

I'm the calm and quick thinking one... "Umm...so, is it after midnight?" I ask Strange Person who might be wanted in a few states - he's got a shifty look to him, who then goes off about how it's after 3 am where he's from way down in South Texas, "way down by the Mexican border" - like I was really interested in just how far he had to run to escape his chain-gang in south Texas that he was from and seriously, can't he see that all we want is for him to vacate so we can  have this elevator to ourselves so we can take the stupid picture and just go to bed?

Of course, I did not let on to Strange Person in the Bally's Elevator After Midnight* that I really did not care.  This made my (not as cool as I was at that moment) daughter collapse in a fit of laughter once Strange Person in the *B.E.A.M. (=D) had made his exit.

I was still very focused on trying to get the photo I wanted. She was not cooperating very well. In fact, she was seriously handicapped and was doubled over laughing so hard at what will forever be known as the Elevator Antics At Bally's.

Exhibit A:

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Me? I was intent on getting that photo. (Darn it! I know I have seen it just recently! It's right on the tip of my brain. (As in that's how you would have something on the tip of your tongue in the same way.)

If I could get Amy to cooperate, I would just take the photo and then hunt for the original when I got home and do one of my Now-and-Then posts. (Where was that photo? This was sooo bugging me!)

I surely was completely incapable of blogging about the entire Bally's Elevator Scene with Strange Person. I'm just not that articulate.

Finally!

We got the photo I wanted...

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I realized way later in sort of a slow-motion a-ha moment where I had recently seen the original mirror photo.

You are probably much quicker on the uptake and may have already noticed it...

See the first photo on the left of my blog header. That's Amy and me. In Las Vegas in 2006. We took the picture in a mirror. We. Did. It!

Header_graphic copy copy 

Shut up. I know.

"Bet it all on black!"

This post has been brought to you courtesy of Kikita.

After meeting Desi, Mami and I continued on our way to Fabulous Las Vegas.

Right as we turned onto Las Vegas Blvd., Mami asked if I'd like to stop and take a picture at the classic sign. I was in a "seize the moment" kind of mood, so we did.

(It feels like good luck/karma/whatever to stop at the sign when arriving in Vegas. It's like paying homage or something . . .)

Vegas sig

We stayed at the very cool (if boderline old school) and totally fun Ballys.

(Located on The Strip, across the street from Caesars Palace)

Bally's 

Ballys, like every good Vegas casino, has a "Sports Book" that Mami was anxious to get to in order to place a bet for a friend of ours. I somehow convinced her to wait until after Miriam's birthday dinner.

I was exhausted after dinner and really hoping Mami would forget about the whole Sports Book thing until morning, but no such luck. So we take the elevator down to the Casino and begin our search for what has now affectionately become known as The Boo

(We took to calling it "The Boo" because we couldn't quite get the "K" in BOOK to show up in the picture. It was screamingly funny at the time, but I guess you just had to be there....)

The boo 

After a considerable amount of walking and window shopping later, we find The Boo (=D) and it's locked up tight for the night.

Empty boo 

Undaunted, we make a plan to try again in the morning, only to find we can't place college football bets at The Boo so we actually have to get in the car and drive all the way out to the Hilton. (Ok, we didn't HAVE to drive, we could have taken the monorail, but it seemed silly since we were planning on leaving just after placing this sports bet.)

Hilton 

On a mission now, we enter the Hilton and immediately find their Boo. (This cracks us up every time! Okay, you really did have to be there...) Since we had NO IDEA what we were doing, Mami asked me to turn-on my "bimbo" charm.

Amy & sports boo 

"Hi, I'm Kikita, the Cuban Valley Girl. " (No, I didn't actually say that, but I may as well have since that's what I sounded like.)

A couple of hair flips later, the bet was placed. Our mission had finally been accomplished.

The person we placed the bet for, who will from this moment on be known as Shady Character #5 (only because he happened to play that part in his high school production of Guys and Dolls, but that's not important right now) slipped us an extra Five-er for our trouble.

I turned to Mami and said, "Let's bet it all on black!"

To my great disappointment, the Hilton has a minimum bet of $10. So we decided to just get on the road and stop at the State Line. (There are a few casinos there and the town actually has a name: Primm. Who knew?)

As we were making our way to the freeway, I couldn't help the nagging feeling of wanting to "Bet it all on black" IN Las Vegas. It felt like waiting to get to the State Line was a cop-out. I was saying as much to Mami when I noticed that an old-school Vegas landmark was just ahead.

"Mija, do you want to just pop into the Tropicana and do it?"

Tropicana

Are you kidding me?? OF COURSE I DID.

I had ALWAYS wanted to go to the Tropicana. (How I'd been to Vegas so many times and NOT been there is beyond me!)

So, I pull into the valet area of the Tropicana (because Mami doesn't believe in self-parking when the option for valet is there) and told the valet, "We'll be back in 10 minutes, we just need to place a quick bet."

Valet car

Feeling the magic of old-school Vegas come to life, I confidently walked into the casino, walked right up to the first roulette table I saw and bet it all on black, effectively parlaying our little 5-spot into big bucks. The next thing I knew, Celia Cruz was being pumped through the casino speakers.

I took it as a sign that I had been blessed and that it was time to go.

The valet as dumb-founded.

Call me superstitious, but I think that since we did right by old-school Vegas (by staying at Ballys, visiting The Sign when we first arrived, and choosing Tropicana over State Line), Vegas did right by us.

Winnings

Oh, and the Tropicana is my new favorite casino. =D

Now you can check off item #60 from your Bucket List

What does a family birthday party in Las Vegas look like?

Well, when you're talking about my family, it looks something like this.... (be sure to take notes. =D)

My niece, Nicole, organized the dinner for my sister (her mom), Miriam at Caesars Palace.  It turns out that on Miriam's Bucket List was an item that read "Celebrate my 60th Birthday at Caesars." 

Caesars. Check.

Caesar's 

Make it intimate. Maybe just The Siblings. Well, The Sisters, anyway.... (my brother, Rudy who lives in Texas, was sadly, unable to come.)

Sisters. Check.

Sisters

And while I have them all together, from oldest to youngest - meet my beautiful sisters....

Ofelia.

Ofie 

Helen.

Helen 

Miriam. The Gorgeous Birthday Girl. And her husband, Tony.

Tony & manana 

Alina.

Alina 

And me...

Marta 

The party was organized by Nicole & Isaac at Beijing Noodle No. 9.

Nik & Isaac  

Eric couldn't get away because he was working. So Amy accompanied me.

(I love this photo...)

Amy fish

Of course, if you're at Caesars Palace, it's imperative that both Caesar AND Cleopatra come to personally wish you a happy birthday. 

Royal birthday greetings. Check.

Caesar & cleopatra 

And there must be cake!

Cake and candles. Check.

Candles 

All the key elements for a good party were definitely in place.

Great destination. Check.

Lots of laughing. Check.

Celebrating a milestone birthday, in an awesome place, surrounded by the people who love you most (...and random Roman royalty). Check.

Group 

Happy Birthday, Manana! We love YOU! Check.

Pastelito Delivery Service

The temperature has been in the double digits around here. So cooking has been a pretty low priority. If I do cook, it will usually involve the crockpot and rice cooker and me NOT in the kitchen for hours.

But last week, I baked! Yes, BAKED. And I'm not just talking about the day I spent too much time in the sun. (That's a story for another day...) ;-)

I made a big batch of my fabulous Pastelitos de Guayaba (homemade guava pastries). 

What on earth could have possessed me to go into the kitchen, let alone turn on the oven, you ask?

Desi, of course. (*be still my foolish heart*) My friend, Desi Arnaz, Jr. 

You see, I had promised to make him some pastelitos and the last few times we've been to Vegas (he lives close to there) we were unable to connect. But this time, his lovely wife, my sweet friend Amy encouraged us to come. They'd just be getting back from a trip, and he'd probably be tired and un-shaven, but would love to see me.

Could I possibly be deterred by a such a small detail as a vacation beard? Besides, all I heard was "... Desi would love to see you."

So I baked.

And, along with my Amy, drove through the Nevada desert in 110 degree heat to deliver the pastelitos to my friend (and teen crush, but that's not important right now. *she blushes*) Desi Arnaz, Jr.

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He tasted them right away. (Notice the sign that says "JOY" directly behind him. Coincidence? I think not.)

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He declared them to be delicious.

Desi: "Would you like some?"

Me: "Can you stop me?"

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I have to reiterate what a delightful and fun-loving (not to mention, immensely talented) guy he is.

And of course, I'm grateful to dear Amy who took time out of her busy schedule to take us on a tour of the charming town of Boulder City, where the Arnaz's own and operate the Historic Boulder Theatre. Amy blogs over at Insights from The Magic Tutu. (If you stop by and say hello, be sure to tell her Marta sent you. =D)

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The Two Amys. How adorable are they??

So, the Pastelito Delivery was a success. We're grateful once again to the Arnaz's for their gracious hospitality.

And once again, I forgot for a moment that he was the son of TV and Cuban Royalty. Until he asked if we liked his T-shirt. The one with the picture of "Mom."

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I know. Shut. UP.  ;-)